MENTORING

"Cadet Ranpreet Singh has been assigned as your cadet guardian", I was informed and introduced to a smart immaculately turned out Sikh boy slightly taller than I was. Guardianship is an onerous responsibility at any age imagine that for a 12 year old. Amazingly, he immediately took charge of things at hand; he was polite and super confident escorting my father and myself through the first day activities, while addressing the queries which my father was posing. I was actually a little overawed and was unusually quiet. The Monsoons arrive with all guns blazing in August in Dehradun, so the downpour was torrential and Ranpreet won over my father by holding the umbrella in such a way that although he was at the receiving end from the showers but my father was totally protected. A gesture unmatched, obviously it reflected on his upbringing and the value system as also the functioning of the school. He was there with me when I bid farewell to my father at the War Memorial, a tearful adieus when we finally parted ways. My father was reassured that I was in good hands!

The system of mentoring in the Armed forces and their training institutions is simply outstanding, unparalleled.  These mentors take their role very seriously, being strict and considerate in the right measure, wonder, how does a 12 year old acquire such maturity. The bonds between these gurus and their wards are forged for life. I was a raw youngster with just passable English and obviously not to the manor born. Mess etiquette was my first battle, using the fork to  gently nudge the veg curry into the folds of chapatti was the first skill acquired, lest I stay hungry. Opening-closing of plate, course wise meals and continental menus was all novelty and interesting. The various outfits/rigs PT, Drill, Inspection Parade(IP) type uniform, handkerchiefs (we the Rimcollians always carried two sets of hankies one for daily use which would obviously not be spotless, the other one was). The other funny rig was in the night suit, in the absence of the dressing gown, one had to put a towel around the shoulders, when moving outside your dormitory.  Ranpreet was always around guiding me through these ordeals. Then the time came for payback, we were required to memorise the names of the appointments and senior cadets, teachers and so on, we were trying our best but did not match up to the expectations of the senior hierarchy of cadets. The brunt was borne by the cadet guardians, which in due course was passed onto us in measures varying from a mild reproof to a full fledged dressing down. He was tough on the slippages and could be quite a bully when he was in one of those torrid moods. We bonded over Table Tennis, not a preferred sport in school, but having noticed my TT racquet in the box, he was the one who got me a few knocks in to assess my game. I had played state level and was quite good at it and had an edge over him as also other seniors, however this activity was generally conducted after lights out, since during the day we were not even permitted to enter the Middle Ante Room where the only TT table was kept.

We had our share of spats but by and large, the relationship remained cordial. Sometimes the Cadet wards play truant and the guardian is at the receiving end, ending up being punished for no personal fault. A very important lesson in parenting, which I am sure, comes in handy later in life. Similarly when the ward goes on to be an achiever, the guardian is justifiably proud. Excelling in academics or sports was one such way of getting in the good books and be rewarded by "extra pudding" on the dinner table. Unlike NDA, the guardian here does not get to put the ward through any physical punishments, but the control exercised is much greater, I dare say. May be because we were younger in age and more malleable.

The cadet guardian-ward relationship is unique and is life long, in my case since Ranpreet did not join NDA, we lost touch, till I got to know of his unfortunate demise and thereafter met his parents and younger brother. He had been an Investment consultant and was doing pretty well, after having graduated as an engineer.

NDA was a different ball game, we the Rimcollians, Georgians and Sainik school types were no longer rookies unlike our other course-mates. Second termers were put under the tutelage of an overbearing over-study raring to go, having borne the brunt for six months at the bottom of the pyramid. Here the Over-studies do not indulge in parenting but ensure the "undies" are pre-mustered for the Corporal's pre-muster which is followed by the pre muster of the sergeant. Accordingly the bathroom clearance for the dukkis was generally around 0415 hours for the muster (the first parade in the morning) scheduled at 0600 hours. More about the Musters some other time. The over studies were actually "hover-studies", hovering over all our activities with powers to punish....Sherry Peter was my over study, from SS Kazhakottam, generally believed to be terror types. We enjoyed a different connection though; we shared our birth date, 21 Mar, the spring equinox. He was in a dilemma, in normal course this coincidence should have automatically anointed me the coveted status of a "pal", but as the over study he felt he would be severely handicapped in discharging his duties (!) So the "palling" had to wait till next year 21 Mar. 

The over studies had to ensure their wards were dressed appropriately whether these were the authorised dresses or the typical NDA attires of "Taant Police Order, Paper Drill Order, Superman, Phantom, Congo Rig.....". For the uninitiated, these dresses need some elaboration, Taant police Order was Khaki Drill Shorts, Ammunition boots, White patrol tunic and Side cap, depicting the Maharashtra policeman. Paper Drill Order comprised just newspapers converted into shorts and shirt; with the ammunition boots of course...this designer outfit would have put many an haute couture to shame! Superman was even more ingenious, a dungaree with swimming trunk over it, with a towel flowing as the cape but Congo rig took the cake, just garter flashes to cover the vitals, rest was sky clad. As though the dresses were not enough, there were several other interesting stuff such as the "out of the box" exercises which we were routinely put through to toughen us up, the Academy whiskey ( a sufi meditative trance achieved by revolving like the darwish except that instead of raised hands, we had our finger firmly on terra firma), Cream roll ( front roll and back roll carried out alternately to provide an equitable balance to mind ,body and soul), side rolls.....these physical exercises not only helped us build our muscles and the six packs but achieved the yogic outcome of cleansing our stomachs of the "vaat, pitt and cough" by making us throw up.

Meals in NDA taught us the true value of two square meals by literally ensuring the meals were partaken only in perfect square motion of the hand, i.e. the hand had to move in a straight line  to the plate, from where it had to move in a perpendicular motion , parallel to the mouth and from there it had to trudge along the straightest path to the mouth, finally returning to the plate in a perpendicular motion again. After this elaborate exercise the hands needed to rest in your lap, before commencing the same drill again. Then there were even more innovative ways of consuming soups, with forks rather than the mundane spoons again training our minds to focus shaolin style on the substance without any distractions.
These set of instructions obviously needed mentor-ship of a very high order and I dare say, I was singularly lucky(!)

By the time we reached the Indian Military Academy, we had become "purane paapi" and didn't need any mentoring whatsoever and took to it like ducks to water. The physicals were just a re-run of NDA so we could just sleepwalk through these. Before we could say "Rajaram Sitaram", we had taken the Antim Pag and received the President's Commission duly signed by none other than Giani Zail Singh!

On joining the unit, it fell upon 2Lt (now Col) Rohit Mehrotra to straighten out the crooked Rimcollian who had joined the elite Airawat Signals fraternity. He is such a thorough gentleman that his goodness rubbed off on goondas like us, we had no option but to emulate him. After all you can't take a panga with someone who is ever ready to apologise even when you are at fault. Someone has very correctly attributed the successful careers to their senior subalterns and their grooming in their formative years in the unit. All the officers took it upon themselves to ensure we were put through a tough training regimen which has stood me in good stead over the 32 odd years of commissioned service.

I think I took this mentorship a little too seriously and got after the youngsters in the units as also in MCTE when I was an instructor for Young Officers. I took pride in the fact that while I made life miserable for them, in the bargain ended up toiling doubly hard. But it was all worth it........